


it would be a hundred times easier...

by flightofcuriosity



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Bad Parenting, Brief mentions of Mako and Tendo, Fundraising and Dancing is a Trope Maybe, M/M, Pre-Canon, Trans Hermann Gottlieb, Trans Newton Geiszler, Vanessa and Karla are there too and they're dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25903165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightofcuriosity/pseuds/flightofcuriosity
Summary: Newt and Hermann have to go to fundraising gala. Newt is outrageous. Hermann cleans up Nice. They dance.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	it would be a hundred times easier...

Newt gives himself another once over in the hotel mirror, satisfied that Stacker Pentecost and Herc Hansen won’t be able to fault him on his professionalism, while Mako and Tendo will certainly compliment him on his passably outrageous tuxedo. His eyeliner is a little uneven, but it’s nothing no one would notice if they weren’t right in his face. 

He bangs on the bathroom door, crossing the not-fooling-anybody duct tape line between his messy half of the twin room (now with boots, clothes worn earlier and three sets of matching novelty bow ties and cummerbunds strewn across the floor, bed and night stand) and Hermann’s (suitcase unpacked and stowed away).

“Herms, how long does it take to tie a bow tie, and why haven’t you got a clip-on?”

A muffled retort seems to indicate that for whatever reason, Hermann has his bowtie between his teeth, and Newt does _not_ let himself follow that train of thought. Various banging and clattering noises quickly distract him.

“Herms? Do you need help in there?”

“I would _not_ need help if you hadn’t already managed to occupy the entire sink with your clutter, Newton! And for the love of - _Would you stop calling me that_?”

Newt hastily jumps back as Hermann exits the bathroom, jabbing at a bottle of pills rolling on the floor with his cane. It would appear that Newt’s precariously balanced toiletry bags (yes, he needs three, no he is not particularly sure why, but his various meds alone (testosterone vial and needles, antidepressants, dexamphetamines) take up one) have fallen off the narrow sink ledge.

“Clean that up before we go to bed, tonight, would you,” Hermann orders, though he sounds more tired than angry. He is fiddling nervously with his cuffs, trying to close his cuff link with one hand. There is a deep flush on his sharp cheekbones. Newt thinks he understands. If dressing up formally is just at the limit of their comfort zones, then dressing up to impress rich potential donors is miles beyond that limit. Newt’s coping the way he does best: by giving the look his own spin. Hermann does it the way he always does: by desperately trying to prove he is the best at it. 

He looks immaculate in - for once - well cut midnight blue slacks and a black satin vest. The same satin piping on the side of the trouser legs shows off his slim calves. Although it would be impossible to make his ruthless undercut look any more professional, his hair looks soft and clean, swept out of his face. Newt wants very much to touch it, but is once again distracted by Hermann’s cursing.

“Let me help,” he exclaims, nearly stepping on Herman’s toes in his eagerness. Hermann rolls his eyes, but acquiesces, holding out the arm with the offending cuff. Newton makes quick work of the silver cuff link and takes a step back to look at the satin bow tie. He is annoyed that it is, in fact, tied ramrod straight. He reaches up to tug at the wings anyway, meeting Hermann’s deep brown eyes as he does. He stops himself from biting his lip when he notices that his colleague’s (friend/rival/lover/ex/it’s-complicated-status-on-facebook) blush deepens. The unspoken resolution to their last non-academic, non-saving-the-world argument hangs between them, and both look away.

“Are you okay there, Dr Gottlieb?” Newt jokes, trying to break the tension, “I’ve never heard you go so long without biting my ass about my lack of professionalism and decorum!”

Hermann sniffs, though he can barely mask a smile as he puts aside his cane - which stylishly matches his tuxedo for the occasion, of course, black with a silver tip and handle - to quickly put on the jacket that has been neatly hanging in the closet until now. 

“That is simply because I have not yet been able to process the sheer atrociousness of your clothing today. Do you intend to confuse or dismay my dear father’s affluent friends into donating to our cause?” The smile turns into a sneer, and with his black peaked lapels he looks sharp enough to dissect a kaiju kidney sample. Newt knows the sneer is more for the “affluent friends” than for him, so he feels comfortable as he bites back on their way to the elevator.

“And what do you intend to do? Bore them into submission? At least I’m _approachable_ . I look like what they want a _scientist_ to look like! Whereas you -” Newt is saved, however briefly, from having to come up with an unfavorable comparison by the elevator dinging. When Hermann turns to continue to their argument, oblivious to the stares of the couple that has just gotten in with them (an uncomfortable too-long glance at his cane, a bemused smirk at Newt’s bow tie), one eyebrow raised, Newt scrambles for a clever answer. 

“Well? What do I look like, Dr Geiszler? Because as far as I can tell, only _one_ of us is wearing black tie, as per the dress code, and it isn’t you.” Only Newt would be able to hear the teasing tone beneath Hermann’s harsh voice. 

Besides, the bow tie, although it shimmers with an elaborate bronze scale pattern that matches his cummerbund, is technically black under the pattern. And yes, his dark green and bronze paisley jacket is velvet; yes, those are custom kaiju cuff links; and yes, the pocket square is a black hankie, the kind historically used to flag in queer circles, with the characteristic paisley barely visible. He knows he looks good, and despite their bickering, he trusts Hermann to hold him back from anything that would go beyond the pale. Hermann is possibly the only person who _could_ stop him from anything he sets his mind to. So he is only mildly defensive when the first comparison he can come up with pops into his head.

“Well, you look like...like a sexy banker!” He bites his lip, furious at his weak retort and the blush that he can feel betraying him. Hermann raises both eyebrows now, smug at his obvious victory. The couple studiously avoids making eye contact until they can escape the elevator on the ground floor, relief palpable. 

Tendo’s wolf whistle as they enter the hotel’s “Rose Ballroom” pierces through the live string quartet, and several heads turn to track the sound. Newt sees Herc Hansen, hovering by Pentecost’s side, frown as they talk to some very important looking people. Pentecost's face, as always, remains impassive, but Tendo has the decency to look sheepish as he catches up to them, looking effortlessly himself as always, in a black tuxedo. 

“Dr Gottlieb, you clean up _nice!_ Dr Geiszler… Well you are a sight for sore eyes, my man. Glad to see you haven’t killed each other in our first six hours here. Think you can hold on for eighteen more?” He laughs, gestures to slap them both on the shoulder and then thinks better of it, knowing how Hermann feels about unsolicited touch. Instead he gestures expansively, and whispers conspiratorially, “ready to hobnob with the world’s best and brightest?” 

“I certainly am,” Mako joins them. Her usual quiet confidence feels a little forced. She would much rather be in her work attire or a pilot’s jumpsuit than the long black lace dress she is wearing now. “Newton, you look dashing. Dr Gottlieb…I can hardly believe it,” she says, giving them both an appraising look. “Dr Gottlieb, Mr and Dr Broker were interested in making your acquaintance.” She gives Tendo and Newton a look that said _behave_ , as if she isn’t the one who got them banned from the Marriott in LA, and sweeps Hermann away to talk to an older couple. 

Newt doesn’t see much of Hermann for the next few hours. First he schmoozes at Tendo’s side, then he does the rounds with Mako. Though he’s only had two glasses, the champagne has him more talkative than ever. Miraculously, he manages to only put his foot in his mouth twice. It’s while Tendo and Mako leave him alone for a moment that he starts looking for Hermann, suddenly anxious at the thought of wheedling another target alone. Finally, he spots Hermann talking with two women, looking more comfortable than Newt had ever seen him outside of their lab. 

One is obviously his sister, with the same pale features accentuated by high cheekbones (thanks to genetics) and severe undercut (thanks to a shared anti-authoritarian streak), who has somehow mastered the art of the tuxedo even better than her brother. The other is a stunning, tall black woman with long dreads pinned in a fauxhawk and a glittering dark pink gown. Newt feels a stab of jealousy at the obvious closeness between the three, the fact that Hermann never mentions any details of his personal life, that he never has despite their decade of correspondence, let alone the years of sharing a lab, and occasionally a bed. _Why can’t things be this effortless between us?_ Hermann’s sister looks at her watch as somewhere in the room a clock strikes, and Newt watches both women say their goodbyes. Hermann even lets them _hug_ him, in public. In that vulnerable moment, it is Newt who sees the danger, who recognizes the one figure Hermann has mentioned from his past, if only to caution against bringing him up.

“He’s not worth the words I’d waste on him,” he wrote in the last letter before their first meeting. 

The two women leave, and Hermann’s eyes follow them, his shoulders returning to their characteristic tension. And then his father is behind him. 

“Dr Paucini, may I introduce you to my eldest child, Dr Hermann Gottlieb?” Hermann jumps to attention as he whirls around, nearly tripping over his own cane as he does so. Distracted by Karla and Vanessa’s surprise appearance, he has failed to notice the one encounter he had hoped to avoid sneaking up on him. 

“Father!” He winces on the voice crack, “Dr Paucini, sir, it’s an honor. May I compliment you on your early work in encryption, it was truly groundbreaking.” _Too much, too much, dial it back._

His father is much taller than him, as is Dr Paucini, who smiles genially. He holds out a light brown hand to shake Hermann’s. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you aren’t quite what I expected, from reading your work and hearing your father. I thought you’d be… well. Tell me, how do your projections see our Wall going?” 

Hermann flounders. Wall? His father knows his work has nothing to do with that damned project, couldn’t he have warned Dr Paucini? The older gentleman has been retired for a decade, he can’t be expected to keep up to date with these things, but one would think - he searches the room desperately for some kind of support. His father picks up on his discomfort, icy smile fixed in place, though his disappointment drips from every word. 

“Well, _Hermann_? I hear that the Coastal Wall is predicted to stop even double breaches. You must give him a moment, Dr Paucini, it always takes him a while to gather his thoughts.”

Dr Paucini’s smile wavers and his eyebrows crease at the odd inflection. Hermann has to remind himself not to clench his fingers around his cane. He knows that expression all too well. _Don’t pity me, don’t pity me._

The silence seems to stretch forever, though it can't have been more than a moment. Suddenly, a familiar warm presence is at his side, smelling faintly of coffee and bergamot.

“Dr Gottlieb, there you are! And... I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?” Newton’s scratchy voice has never sounded so safe. He leaps forward in his absurd suit, shaking both taller men’s hands, barely taking a moment to breathe before he continues. “I’m Dr Geiszler, Dr Gottlieb’s esteemed colleague. You must be Mr Gottlieb Senior! I can hardly see the resemblance, but your reputation precedes you. And Freddie! How long has it been? Seven years? I still think about that paper you graded so unfairly. I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding, Mr Gottlieb, Doctor... I’m afraid Hermann - I’m sorry, Dr Gottlieb - and I aren’t involved in the Coastal Wall project at all. In fact, we at K-Sci think it’s a fucking load of _crap_ that won’t withstand the first category 4 to cross the Breach, let alone two. So, Dr Freddie, I strongly recommend you don’t waste your hard-mined bitcoins on that project. But I’m awfully sorry we can’t stick around, Dr Gottlieb here owes me a dance and they’re playing a waltz - Or maybe it’s our supervisor calling. Hard to tell! Hit me up on LinkedIn, Mr Gottlieb, Dr Paucini!” 

Hermann barely remembers to close his mouth as Newt rattles off his spiel, is too shocked, too relieved to even process that his lab partner just swore at his father, and that they didn’t even start to request either of the wealthy men for funding. The quartet is indeed playing a waltz, and his hand is in Newton’s, as it has so often been, and his father is somewhere on the other side of the room. Though he rarely likes to meet others’ gaze, and knows Newton feels the same, he finds himself admiring Newton’s hazel eyes, accentuated by his freckles and slightly uneven eyeliner. They find a comfortable position, with his cane between them and Newton’s hand demurely on Hermann’s shoulder, and start a shuffle they have done so many times before.

“I’m so sorry, Herms, I could tell you were uncomfortable, but I shouldn’t just have barged in and kidnapped you,” Newton is biting his lip, the way he does when he’s nervous or… well, Hermann assumes he’s nervous.

“No. No,” he shakes his head emphatically, “I was not prepared for that encounter. Thank you. Perhaps you could introduce me to Dr Paucini some other time. You seemed very well acquainted.” There is no animosity, no needling. Sometimes it is so easy to be with Newton, especially when he isn’t being pig-headed about some preposterous theory. Especially when they are at an ineffective fundraiser begging for scraps, while the leaders of the PPDC funnel funding towards a doomed photo-op. All he wants right now was Newton, solid, upfront, unambiguous, baffling Newton. To just feel held as they dance while the world shatters.

“Aw, Freddie is a sweetheart," Newton starts to ramble unselfconsciously. "Real strict on essay grading. I even offered to strip - relax, I didn’t, you know me! I would never! Anyway, you’d like him…”

Hermann does relax. No, of course his Newton would never compromise his moral code for something he perceived as insignificant as grades. No: not _his_ Newton. He tries to let go of that thought; they can’t start this argument again. Not now. As though Newton feels his dance partner’s anxious thoughts wander, he pulls Hermann closer, sliding his hand down to his waist, taking the lead in their directionless dance. Newton’s chatter stills as he rests his head on Hermann’s shoulder, his thumb drawing slow circles on his back, just the way he knows Hermann likes. 

“We’re alright, Hermann,” Newt murmurs against his chest, “Let’s just be like this for now.” Hermann inhales, finally feeling like himself for the first time this evening. He has obligations, to his family, to the PPDC, to the world. But in this moment, there is no one else who could convince him that they will defeat the monsters knocking at their door.

He presses a soft kiss to Newt’s hair. “We are alright, Newt. Let’s dance.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to make them dance and wear a tux but for whatever reason it got kind of melancholy. It's fine! 
> 
> Fun fact: cummerbunds go with shawl lapels, vests go with peaked lapels. "The socks must be black and up to the knee. No exceptions will do any justice to the look." (google Tuxedo do's and dont's and click the lanieri link to find out more and also cry at how expensive tuxedos can be. ALSO: google novelty bowties and cummerbunds because it is a TREAT.)


End file.
